Sam's Birthday
by inspirationimagination
Summary: It's Sam's birthday, the one night a year he wished never happened. It's the painful reminder of an absent father, a doting and yet sometimes unorthodox Brother, and a miserable night in whatever motel they were holed up in. Dean wants to change that and give Sam a birthday worth remembering. But things don't go to plan and Dean has to remember what's important to salvage the night
1. Chapter 1

Sam's Birthday-Part 1

**A/N (The artwork I used for a cover image is not mine, if it is your work send me a message and credit I'll you or change it if you'd prefer.) Thanks to It'sJustADream for the advice :) This is going to be a 2-part story, the other half is already written. x**

Sam opened his eyes. He knew what today was. And he didn't want to deal with it. He pulled the covers over his head. They'd been on a case since 10am this morning and they'd crashed out in bed as soon as they'd gotten in; it was now approaching 6pm; or so said the red digits of the alarm clock. He snuggled down in the warmth; he hadn't mentioned when his watch had ticked past midnight, not eager to arise the issue he wanted to avoid; his birthday. He had never made much fuss of the occasion in previous years; his Father was always too busy hunting to remember; he'd gotten a congratulations on very rare occasions. And Dean ignored the issue at Sam's request; Dean _always _remembered his birthday but that only dug the blade in that his Father didn't. He tossed on to his front, pressing down in to the mattress to go back to sleep.

He felt something hit his back and knew immediately who was to blame. "Don't you dare go back to sleep!" Dean called.

Sam sighed and pushed the covers back, knocking his boot-that Dean had thrown- to the floor. The bathroom door was open and from his position in bed he could see the mirror, Dean reflected in it. Dean's eyes caught Sam's as he rubbed his wet hair. "Come on, get up." he ordered and Sam knew he wouldn't quit bugging him until he did. "It's your birthday, let's get drunk 'cause I want to, drunk 'cause I want, drunk 'cause I want to!" he added in a singsong kind of way, reminiscent of the cliche song. Sam groaned, he hated his birthday, it only ever reminded him of how no one was ever there for him. Well, perhaps besides Dean.

The idea of celebrating something he had so ritualistically avoided did not seem appealing. But he knew Dean was persistent, so as soon as his eyes slowly closed again, he wasn't surprised when his duvet was ripped off, revealing his body to the cold air. He groaned, sometimes his Brother was a real dick. "Get up Sammy, it's your birthday. And this year we're gonna do it properly."

Sam knew Dean's idea of a 'proper' birthday celebration was going to involve copious amounts of alcohol and who knows how many desperate women. Not exactly appealing but a night out sounded great; especially given the night they'd had.

He groggily sat up, running his fingers through his hair. He rubbed his aching eyes as he blinked against the light.

"Come on, get up." Dean whined, chucking his wet towel in to Sam's chest. Sam shrugged it off, dropping it to the floor. "Get your stinky ass in the shower; I'm going for breakfast." Dean quickly yanked on his coat, grabbed his car keys and headed out the door. But not before swiping Sam's wallet.

Sam dropped back on to the mattress in defeat. This was not what he wanted to do today.

xXx

By the time Sam was coming out of the shower, jeans low on his hips, Dean was back. He had a large brown paper bag in between his teeth, a holder of two cups of coffee in his left hand, his car keys and Sam's wallet in his right. He kicked the motel room door shut with his heel. He dropped the keys and wallet to the table and removed the bag from his teeth.

"Damn, you need a haircut; you're giving Tina Turner a run for her money."

Sam ignored him, running his hands through his damp hair.

"Is that your way of saying I'm _simply the best_?" Sam smirked, taking a cup of coffee from the table. "And on my birthday too?" He mocked.

Dean rolled this eyes. "You gonna clean yourself up or what? It's bad enough I've gotta have my baby Brother as my wingman, let alone have him cramping my style."

Sam suppressed a smile. "You do know I'm grown up now, right?"

Dean munched down two donuts as Sam sat on the edge of his bed, nursing the cup in his hands. "Dean, do we have to go out tonight? I'd much rather-"

"Of course we gotta go, Sammy." Dean interrupted, licking the stray frosting from his cupid's bow. "It's your birthday; we're getting drunk so suck it up."

Sam sighed at the finality in Dean's voice. "Yeah, sure." he mumbled and headed to get a shirt. Anything to keep Dean happy.

xXx

By the time the Impala was pulled up outside a bar on a sideroad in town, Dean was already grinning to himself. Sam sat shotgun, slumped against the window, silently thinking he should have point blank refused to leave the motel. Dean got out the car as Sam relucantly followed. Dean locked up, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as he walked round to where Sam stood.

"Gonna be a good night, Sammy." He had a hand around Sam's shoulders and clapped him confidently on the chest as his eyes wandered across the barfront. "Don't worry, I'll find you a woman."

Sam merely stood in his Brother's grip and looked tiresomely up at the bar. "Excuse me if I don't jump for joy." he mumbled. He knew Dean's definition of women; sexy, easy and scantily dressed. And it definitely didn't include a second date.

Dean dropped his arms and gave a disbelieving shake of his head and he started towards the bar, Sam grudgingly followed. "Try to get you laid on your birthday and this is the thanks I get." Dean grumbled.

"I don't wanna get laid, Dean, I-" Dean silenced his argument with an almost gleeful look in his eyes and an awkstruck tone.

"Sam. College chicks!" Sam followed his eyeline to see a large group of young women in short skirts, high heels and taking shots one after the other. He passed Sam a grin and made his eyebrows bounce.

This was going to be a long night.

xXx

Sam was sat at the bar, nursing a half empty glass. Dean was crudely, and yet unashamedly, doing jelloshots off some girl's body on the pooltable, 'accidentally' knocking the glass over and having 'no choice' but to flick his tongue briefly across her skin. Sam had ducked out as soon he saw the shots being brought out. He felt a hand come down heavy on his shoulder.

"Sammy, come on, I got a girl's thigh with your name on."

Sam rolled his eyes at his Brother's crude and borderline offensive comment. "Dean, I'd rather not." he muttered, not even looking up.

"Come on, sammy, don't be a killjoy. Get a few shots down ya and you'll loosen up." Dean insisted.

Sam sighed, meeting Dean's eyes sincerely. "Dean, really, I don't-"

"Sammy," Dean interrupted with one hand on Sam's shoulder, the other pointing in his face. "-If you don't get over there and suck a shot glass off that incredibly skinny girl's openly revealed thigh-"

Sam gave up. "Fine." If it'll make Dean leave him alone afterwards.

"Ladies," Dean called loudly, as they approached the table. The group of girls looked up expectantly, and Sam could feel their eyes on him. "This is my Brother, it's his birthday today, think you can show him a good time?"

Sam watched as four shot glasses were perched precariously on the young woman's thigh, stomach, underbust and chest. Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Sure, he'd drunk his fair share during his brief years at Stanford, but this wasn't appealing; he could see her ribs protruding slightly and had the urge to feed her a burger, her skin was already smeared with spilt drinks that had gone sticky and they were sticking out like a sore thumb compared to the local rednecks at the other end of the bar.

Dean looked at him expectantly and slightly insistant. This wasn't how Sam wanted to spend his birthday at all, he at least wanted to remember it tomorrow, but Dean seemed to be enjoying himself and that was enough for Sam.

Sam took a breath before leaning down and grasping the first shot glass with his lips and downing it, moving up the young woman's body, taking another shot and then another. Sam gasped before downing the final one, spilling it slight.

The young girl on the pool table sat up, pulling Sam in. She carefully licked the droplets that had escaped down his chin, trailed her tongue up and just reaching the corner of his mouth, before sidling away. To Dean it might have been sexy, but for Sam it was just uncomfortable. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, see the misplaced glue of her fake eyelashes and the amount of makeup she was wearing was covering up her beautifully natural freckles.

But Dean seemed pleased that he was finally starting to enjoy himself, or at least it looked that way. Dean was immersed in girls, as usual, and was heading for another bottle of tequila.

xXx

Nearly an hour later and Sam was sitting back at the bar, the shots quickly wearing off due to his high metabolism and sheer size. Dean was now beside him in the stool, but with the women surrounding them. Since he couldn't get Sam to the girls, he decided to bring the girls to Sam, much to Sam's displeasure; he'd debated just leaving Dean to it but he'd just have to drive back out later to pick up a stumbling Dean.

"So what's your name?" one of the girls asked him, raising her voice over the loud music.

"Sam." he replied, less than interested in her right now.

"I'm Brandi-Lynn." Sam merely nodded. He knew maybe he was being rude but right now he was not in the best of moods. "How come you're sitting here? Come dance with me." she insisted, pulling his stool around from the bar with a wide smile.

"Oh, no, I don't dance, sorry." he muttered, turning back to his drink.

"Oh come on, I bet you can move those hips when you want to." she whispered in his ear, warm and moist thanks to the amounts of drinks she had chugged down throughout the evening.

"Look, I'm really not interested. It's nothing personal, I was just looking for a quiet drink tonight." he said back. When he pulled away from her ear he saw her frustrated and venomous expression.

She disappeared rather quickly after that, Dean showing up almost immediately.

"Sam, what the hell?! That girl has been looking at you all night, what did you do?" he demanded.

"Told her I wasn't interested." Sam shrugged.

"Wasn't-? Have you lost your mind? That girl is smoking hot and you turned her away? Come on little Brother, I raised you smarter than that." Dean frowned and ordered another drink.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah you did, which is why I'm not going to pick up some girl when she's drunk." Without another word he got up, holding Dean's unreadable gaze all the while and headed to the bathroom.

It's not like he didn't want to enjoy himself, but right now, the blaring music was giving him a headache, the girls all over him was making his skin crawl and he was sure the bartender was watering down his drinks anyway. By the time he got back from the bathroom Dean was leaning against the bar with a frown on his face. Sam hates that look, and hates it even more how Dean hides it as soon as he spots Sam heading towards him. Sam might not be liking it but he at least wants Dean to be happy, he swallows his pride and vows to get more involved.

**A/N Hope you liked it, reviews make me smile. Part 2 will be up in a few days x**


	2. Chapter 2

Sam's Birthday- Part 2

**A/N Thanks to CrazyAboutElvis, Elric2007, Shannanigans, murphy9202, AngelicZombieCat, missingmikey, sammynanci, CandyCakes & Hummingfox for adding to favourite story, following the story and reviews, you guys are my motivation 3**

**This is the second half of Sam's Birthday where things go from bad to worse, and Sam finally says what he feels.**

15 Minutes and several shots later, him and Dean are surrounded by girls who insisted on mixing their own drinks. Another two shots was pushed in from of Sam.

"What's actually in this?" he asked, noting the discoloured fluid.

"Don't question baby Brother, just drink it." Dean said, before downing his own. The other following in quickly. Dean gave a quick shake of his head after the drink went down, his eyes bulging slightly, but he smirked at the brunettes and blondes around him doing the same.

Sam sighed, knowing this was going to be disgusting, but threw his head back anyway as the liquid sloshed in to his mouth. It tasted like pure chemicals, no doubt the cheapest alcohol the young women could get their hands on. It burnt his throat as it went down, it was almost painful, and he wondered how many spirits had been mixed. He took the next one as quick as he could, holding his breath and trying not to taste it. Both attempted failed miserably and he ended up coughing and sluttering as the foul tasting fluid went down the wrong way. In his confusion and heavy coughs rumbling in his chest he felt himself being pulled along.

The group of girls were insisting on dancing and by the time he recovered from almost choking on his shot, they were already on the small dancefloor. The dancefloor is heaving and Sam feels trapped amongst the sweaty bodies of strangers pressing against him. He sees Dean cosying up to a petite blonde girl and rolls his eyes, his Brother moves fast. Sam tries to get in to it, dancing with the few girls around him, all of who are trying to stake their claim on his hips. Eventually the others dissipated and admit defeat as a fiesty brunette sidles up to him. Her eyeflashes are huge, her hair is inexplicably voluminous and long, and her cleavage is heaving; Sam is yet to find one part of her that isn't fake. But he goes along with it rather than returning to the bar. He can feel the ample brunette grinding against his crotch, pressing the back of her body close to his and her arm slung back around his neck. He's got a beer in his right hand and tentatively places his left hand on her slim exposed midriff. In all honesty he finds it kind of awkward. He doesn't know this girl, not even her name and he's putting his hands on her body. He doesn't know anyone around him and yet they're all pressing some part of their bodies against his, and people are looking in their direction. And it doesn't help that Dean is giving him a thumbs up and proud wink from across the floor, where he's dancing with a girl in each arm, grinding against both his hips.

The girl infront of him was turning in his grip to face him, his fingertips now grazing her lower back. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her eyes focused on his lips. He hesitantly put his hand on her hip in preparation to push her away, thinking maybe he was giving her the wrong idea. She continued to grind her hips against his and as he started to pull away and explain, she crashed her lips against his. He jerked back in an instant, but not quick enough to know that she tasted like an ashtray, all sour tang and bitterness.

"What's wrong?" she asked innocently, as though she hadn't just nearly headbutted him.

"I'm sorry, I don't-"

"Hey!" Sam felt himself being roughly pulled around, causing his to drop the bottle in his hand, spilling it all over his boots. He turned to see a stocky man who obviously hadn't shaved this morning. He was nowhere as near as tall Sam, or as muscular. He had a dirty white beater on, with torn jeans, though Sam guessed it was through wear rather than fashion purposes. "You touching my girl?" the greasy man accused as Sam heard the woman's arguements behind him.

Great. Just his luck. "No, I wasn't-" he said lazily.

The guy roughly shoved Sam's chest. Sam went on instinct and shoved back harder. The guy stumbled backwards, toppling in to a table and sending glasses shattering to the floor. Yet got back up, not put off by Sam's towering height. The man swung his fist towards Sam, who amply dodged it. Sam had the urge to laugh, his guy was an amateur, he'd clearly never had any training in how to fight. Sam didn't throw a punch back, Dean was always the one to punch first, Sam just acted in defense. When Sam dodged the second punch he felt strong arms locked around his own, trapping them behind his back. He struggled and caught a glimpse of the burly man stood behind him, before he felt the fists collide with his face, knocking his head violently to one side. He took another punch to the face, no doubt bloodying his mouth and another to the gut before Dean showed up.

Sam heard a smash and felt the arms holding him go loose, he turned just in time to see the huge guy fall to the floor in a shower of glass. People were looking and Sam decided they'd better leave before Dean caused a bar fight.

By the time they were escorted outside by the bartender Sam was already storming away. He could hear Dean calling from behind him.

"Come on Sammy, it's just a busted lip, you've had worse."

"You know what," Sam yelled, turning back to face his Brother, only a few feet between them. "This whole night has been hell for me."

"What're you talking about, you were having fun before that guy jumped you. Hell, I'm surprised you even let him get the drop on you." Dean added offhanded.

"Know why he jumped me? Because one of the local trailertrash girls you stuck me with was his girlfriend."

"How's that my fault, you-"

"I didn't even want to do this tonight, Dean!" Sam yelled finally releasing his anger. "_You _insisted on going out. You didn't even ask me what I wanted to do on _my_ birthday. This?" He barked, throwing his hand in the direction of the bar. "This isn't my idea of a good time, it's yours! I'm not you, Dean! I don't want jello shots and skanky community college girls grinding against me in a room full of rednecks! I don't want to have to drink my own weight in liquor to celebrate! And I definitely don't want to wake up in the morning with a killer hangover and no memory of what I did!" he finished in frustration, a deep frown on his forehead and his chest heaving heavily through exertion.

Dean looked at his for a moment which a confused, are-you-for-real sort of look. "After all the crap we deal with on a daily basis and you don't want to let loose once in a while? I thought a night off would be good for you, Sammy." He added, looking utterly sincere, for once. "I just wanted you to have a good birthday for once, rather than sitting in some crappy motel like always. To have a break from the nightmares we have to deal with. You don't want to be here, fine! Then what the hell would make you happy? Going to the library? Visiting a museum? Maybe taking in a _show_?" Dean taunted in spite, throwing his arms wide in expectation of an answer and then dropping them heavily to his side.

Sam shook his head slowly, eyes locked with Dean's questioning gaze.

"All I wanted to do tonight was have a beer with my Brother and play pool. But I guess that isn't good enough for you." Sam said, sounding tired and at a loss. He'd put up with this crap all night and he'd had enough. He saw Dean's unreadable expression soften out a little, before confusion took hold. Sam turned on his heel and stalked away, ignoring the Impala parked nearby.

"Where're you going?" Dean called impatiently after a moment of two, noticing him heading towards the main road.

"Where do you think!" Sam spat, no looking back and stuffing his hands in his pockets. They only had the Impala and a motel room, two guesses which one he was headed for.

xXx

Sam didn't go straight back to the motel like he intended. Instead he walked in to town and found another bar, a quieter bar where he was less likely to get jumped by hicks and grabby desperate women. He sat for nearly an hour with only one drink, his mind buzzing and slowly sobering up. He felt guilty for yelling at Dean; he's didn't mean for any of that crap to happen, just wanted Sam to have a good night. But Sam was kind of pissed that Dean didn't even consider what he wanted, like what he wanted to do didn't matter.

Eventually he downed his drink and headed out. He found a Chinese Takeaway and headed back to the motel with cartons of food, intending to make it up to Dean; logically they were both at fault but Dean wouldn't admit that if he was still pissed. He knew his Brother did more for him sometimes than his own Father had ever done. Dean was the one who made his breakfast almost every morning, because Dad got in late from a hunt and was sleeping it off in his room, that's if he even came home. Dean always made the dinner, and always gave Sammy his portion if there wasn't enough to go around. Dean was the one who somehow managed to find him a new pair of shoes, even though they had no money to spare. Or would hustle pool for hours at a time to get enough money to buy Sam's new clothes after he'd had a growth spurt, so the other kids wouldn't laugh at his too short pants or too tight fitting shirts. And done the same again only two months later for his second growth spurt, with no complaint of how he'd only just bought new clothes; Dean hadn't even considered making do with what they had, his first thought was to get Sam what he needed. Dean was the one who taught him to fight and stand up for himself. Taught him how to shave properly and deal with the cuts if he didn't. Hell, he was the one who crudely gave Sam 'The Talk' and explained the, possibly too-much-info, in's and out's of girls and dating. He was his big Brother, who always got him out of trouble when he needed it, even though Sam was sure he must have sometimes gotten frustrated with having his kid Brother tagging along.

Sam got back to the motel only a few minutes later, so thankfully the food was still warm. He opened the door and shuffled inside. When he turned, he saw something he wasn't expecting. At the far side of the room, where the small dining area used to be, was a full size pool table. He frowned at it as he moved closer. He stopped in the middle of the room as Dean came from the bathroom. He gave Sam an apologetic look.

"Hey." was all he said.

"Hey." Sam replied, not quite sure what was happening.

"Look Sammy, you were right. It's _your_ birthday; I should have asked you what _you _wanted to do. I just wanted to you have fun for once, you know? To actually let loose and enjoy yourself, maybe forget about the crap we gotta deal with, at least for one night. I guess, I didn't consider what you wanted." He stood there looking awkward, almost embarrassed by the honesty and a little confused about what to do next.

Sam smirked. "You've gone all Dr Phil." he joked, breaking the 'moment' in an instant.

"Shut up." Dean said, rolling his eyes. "I'm trying to be serious here, man, give me a break."

Sam nodded. "So where did you get the table and how did you even get it in here?" he smirked.

Dean shifted awkwardly. "From the bar we were at and I had some help. Cas."

There was a flutter of wings as the air around them shifted and Cas appeared besides Sam. He looked at Sam curiously, his head cocked to one side.

"Happy Birthday, Sam." he said flatly, presenting something to him.

Sam looked down and saw a single cupcake in Castiel's hand, a lone lit blue candle stood on top. Sam smirked as he took it. "Exactly 30 years ago today, you were born...Congratulations."

Sam looked like he didn't know what to say. "Erm, thanks Cas, this is...well, this is great." he said with an honest smile, looking down at the light blue frosting.

Castiel gave a slight smile, a nod and disappeared again.

There was an awkward silence as the air settled and Sam just stood with his cupcake before blowing out the candle. He stood there, not quite knowing what to do.

"Ok, this is how I see it." Dean piped up. "I've beer, you've got Chinese, how about we just start your birthday over?" Dean said, simply extending a que towards Sam, but Sam caught the hidden request for forgiveness, even if Dean's eyes tried to hide it.

Sam looked at it for a moment; he'd expected an arguement, some kind of yelling at least as Dean told him how ungrateful he'd been, he didn't expect his Brother going to all this effort.

"Come on Sammy, I'll even let you break."

Sam smirked; Dean never let him break, ever, only if he was hustling his own game at a bar with some gullible drunk. Sam quickly shrugged off his jacket and took hold of the que. Dean already handed him an open beer and the chalk cube as he went about setting up the balls. They hadn't played pool together, just for fun since- he couldn't even remember when.

"Hey, you eating that?" Sam smirked as he saw Dean eyeing the cupcake. He handed it over willingly, smirking as Dean bite a chunk, smearing blue frosting on the tip of his nose.

Maybe his birthday hadn't gone so bad afterall.

**A/N A very brief appearance of Castiel, because it just wouldn't be the same without him :) I had to have Dean come up good in the end, despite some of his mistakes he is a great Big Brother ^-^ I just wanted to show that Dean always comes through for Sam in the end, even if he has messed everything up already. Let me know what you think x**


End file.
